We saw much during those days of the Governor of Cesena.

Indeed his time seemed mainly spent in coming and going 'twixt Cesena and Pesaro, and it needed no keen penetration to discern the attraction that brought him.

He was ever all attention to Madonna, and there were times when I feared that perhaps she had been drawn into accepting the aid that once before he had proffered.

But these fears were short-lived, for, as time sped, Madonna's aversion to the man grew plain for all to see.

Yet he persisted until the very eve, almost, of her betrothal to Ignacio.
One evening in early December I chanced, through the purest accident, to overhear her sharp repulsion of the suit that he had evidently been pressing.
"Madonna," I heard him answer, with a snarl, "I may yet prove to you that you have been unwise so to use Ramiro del' Orca." "If you so much as venture to address me again upon the subject," she returned in the very chilliest accents, "I will lay this matter of your odious suit before your master Cesare Borgia." They must have caught the sound of my footsteps in the gallery in which they stood, and Ramiro moved away, his purple face pale for once, and his eyes malevolent as Satan's.
I reflected with pleasure that perhaps we had now seen the last of him, and that before that threat of Madonna's he would see fit to ride home to Cesena and remain there.